Page 46 of Blood Fist

Just like he did to Jonen and Corric—his packmates. The blush on his cheeks turned into something else, his alpha wavering from wanting to defend his honor to nearly chuffing at the implication. With a grin, he grabbed a handful of moss from the trunk of the nearest tree and flung it at Ridan.

It splattered against his chest, silencing the guffawing omega who stared down at the mess with shock. His eyes burned when he looked back up.

“Oh, you’ll pay for that!” he shouted, racing forward to tackle Brune into the mud. The lithe omega knocked him to his back, the soft ground doing little to cushion the blow. Mud covered fingers slathered across his face. Bucking his hips, he unseated Ridan, knockinghim forward. Taking advantage of the opportunity, Brune grabbed his wrists.

Ridan’s eyes were bright with mischief, lips curled back to expose his small omegan fangs. He looked softer, playfulness honing the edges of his sharp features.

“You started it,” Brune pointed out as a glob of mud rolled down his cheek.

“And I’ll finish it!” Ridan promised, struggling against his grip. Brune held him still, taking a moment to look at him.

Even dirty, with his hair hanging low with water, he was still something to behold. It was clear that his appearance on the battlefield wasn’t a one off. Ridan truly was a brightness in this world, and Brune nothing more than a moth weak to his light.

His struggles tapered off, chest heaving with his efforts. The air between them thickened. It felt like sparks ignited across the parts touching Ridan. His grip loosened, but Ridan stayed, looking at him like he was a particularly difficult puzzle. Mud slid down their cheeks, but they didn’t move. Not even when the ambient sound grew in volume, the denizens of the swamp convinced the noisy intruders were gone.

Their breathing synced, and amongst the smell of rotted wood and wet, he picked up on Ridan’s unique scent. He chuffed, so softly he wasn’t even sure he’d done it until Ridan’s eyes widened in surprise. He blinked twice before lifting his chin, almost as if he was going to--

Jonen’s laughs cut through their trance. Ridan disappeared, running after a yelping Jonen. He only stopped to shove his packmate into a puddle.

Brune pulled himself to stand. Corric—who managed to remain clean—looked up at him shrewdly.

He wiped moss from his face. “What?”

“Nothing,” Corric said airily. “Just surprised.”

“At what?”

“Your continued survival,” Corric answered with a smirk, moving off to separate his packmates before it escalated any further.

They could smell the swamps before they saw them. It wasn’t inherently unpleasant—the smell of damp, rotting wood, and mud. It made Ridan’s lip curl with distaste every time. Despite the smell, there was a kind of beauty in the still waters. Frogs and tadpoles skittered away at the heavy sounds of their boots, leaping through the thick scum floating on the water’s surface to dive into the murky depths.

From experience, Ridan knew the swamps weren’t deep. Most places barely lapped at his waist. It wasn’t the depths that would hurt you, it was what lived in the dark waters. If not the mud that is so thick in parts it would hold a man fast, than the creatures that called the swamps home.

Blessed with the ability to see in the murky waters, it wasn’t just the Snap Jaws that would take you, although they were the biggest.

Even the fish of the swamps were formidable, quick with fins sharp as blades. They were more difficult to catch than their worth. The plants could be deadly, too. Poisoned leaves and flowers that stung if you stood too close, they were worth the pain to collect. Many of these plants were the basis for soaps and Iylah’s medicines.

Perching on an arching root, Ridan looked over the small, weedy islands that were most likely to have nests. They weren’t hard to find—the females left them out in the open, which made Ridan question the intelligenceof the males of the species—but the difficulty wasn’t in finding the nests. It was getting to them.

Almost always nestled in the high reeds surrounding the little islands, they were in a muddy mess of twigs and leaves just barely above the waterline.

Ridan found a nest immediately. It was a big one, the white eggs shining like pearls imported from the Jagged Coast. He tapped Jonen on the shoulder and pointed. The alpha stood on tiptoes to see, but his eyes widened when he did. Nodding quickly, he slipped off his boots and heavy sword. Armed with only his hunting knife and a leather bag, he waded into the stagnant waters.

Moving slowly, Jonen took sure steps, eyes fixed on everything but the nest. Still perched on his root, Ridan slipped off his bow and notched an arrow. He was a fine shot, not that it mattered. Nothing save a stone tipped arrow fired from a great bow could pierce a Snap Jaws thick skin, but he could distract it long enough for Jonen to scramble away.

“What’s happening?” Brune asked, his voice hushed.

Corric pointed to the nest. “We stay quiet so as not to alert the adults nearby. Jonen is going to check if the eggs are fertilized. If they aren’t, he’ll bring them back.”

“How will we know the adults are nearby?”

“Oh, you’ll know,” Ridan answered with a sneer. “The screaming gives it away.”

Brune paled a little, eyes darting around the placid surface of the water. Any kind of disturbance might be an indication of an adult nearby. Off of mating season, they would normally watch the hunters from the banks. Blinking sleepily as they basked in the warm mud, with no interest in messing with humans.

Jonen made it to the little island quickly. The waterrose to his armpits, and he had some difficulty scrambling up the bank flattened by the female’s belly. Leaning on his elbows, he reached into the nest and tested the eggs. He flashed the three on the bank a grin, plucking up the six eggs and shoving them into the bag hanging around his shoulders.

Ridan held his breath as Jonen swam back. The alpha’s face was tense, lips pressed together to keep the murky water from his mouth, but his movements were sure. Ridan didn’t relax until he stumbled up the bank, slightly breathless, with mud and algae dripping off him.